


A Little Bit Pear-Shaped

by Meg13



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)
Genre: F/M, affectionately known as the NotJim AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25553251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meg13/pseuds/Meg13
Summary: Wherein Walter Stricklerthinkshe's got his life under control, but doesn't.(or, the night Strickler became NotEnrique's stepdad)
Relationships: Barbara Lake/Walter Strickler | Stricklander
Comments: 11
Kudos: 64





	A Little Bit Pear-Shaped

**Author's Note:**

> credit for this idea goes to TwistedMashup. it isn't exactly what we talked about on discord _last year_ , but that convo was the spark that inspired me to write this. thanks!

\-----

If anyone asked, Walter Strickler would tell them he was doing a rather fine job of juggling all of his responsibilities – thank you, very much.

It started with his decision to modernize the North American branch of the Janus Order. Files were encrypted, ancient histories were digitized, firewalls were installed – and what was once known as the least productive division in the organization quickly became a well-oiled machine that required very little of his personal attention. Even moreso after Bular started shacking up with some Siberian mountain troll and it was no longer necessary to babysit the brute, or to replace perfectly good operatives every time he had the hankering for a ‘midnight snack’.

With paperwork down, recruitment up, and his minions mostly competent enough to manage day-to-day operations, Walter was finally able to focus on the more enjoyable parts of his life – such as marking papers, and posting grades, and volunteering to coach the debate team until that fateful day when Missy Logan threw her shoe at Elliot Pierce, missed, and wound up sending _him_ to the hospital with a broken nose instead.

Not that he complained.

Much.

Because the beautiful young resident manning the ER that day agreed to have a coffee with him, and to go to dinner with him, and to spend every free second she could with him from that moment on. And, yeah. Okay. They may have encountered a few itty-bitty hiccups early in their relationship. But it’s not like they went into that first date knowing Barbara’s ex had left her with a parting gift, or that Walter would inadvertently expose his not-so-human nature to her after a particularly nasty row with the bastard.

And did all that make it even more satisfying when the nurse passed a wrinkly, wriggling James Lake Junior to _him_ instead of his namesake one warm September afternoon? Yes. Yes, it did.

Life was good.

For about six months.

Then everything went a little bit pear-shaped.

Well, more than usual.

It was at exactly 4:42 am on some idle Tuesday that Walter was ripped out of a perfectly good REM cycle by the sound of horrified shrieking coming from the bedroom next door.

“Barbara!”

He was out of bed in an instant and only tripped twice in his haste to get to the hallway, where he managed to slip on the hardwood floor he’d so meticulously polished the day before. There was an “oof!” as he catapulted into, and almost _over_ , the banister – then, a wheezing sort of whimper that did nothing at all to help him catch the breath that had just been knocked out of him.

Another shrill screech rang out. And it sounded a lot like… Gremlin? Green minion?

 _Fuck_.

What the hell was a goblin doing in Jim’s room? Hadn’t he made it clear to Fragwa that the horde was to stay away from his home or suffer the consequences? The very dire, smashed-under-my-foot-and-and-fed-to-a-rabid-gnome kind of consequences?

Yet, here one was. The little monster. He would personally see to its punishment for scaring the wits out of poor Barbara and waking up her sweet, adorable little –

Wait.

Why wasn’t Jim crying?

_What did it do to him?_

Time stood still, and then sped up spectacularly as Walter hurtled into the middle of the nursery. If one of those shiesty buggers touched a single hair on that child’s head…

“Thank god!” Barbara gasped. She flung herself into his side and pressed her cheek against his heaving chest, her shoulders shaking. “Oh, Walt!”

“Where is it?” He snarled through clenched teeth. “Where’s the filthy bastard?”

“There!”

A rumbling growl erupted from deep down in his throat as his golden gaze shifted in the direction her finger was pointing, his body tensing in furious anticipation for an epic battle – that was absolutely _not_ going to happen. “Uh.” He blinked. “Barbara?”

Her brow narrowed and she hissed fiercely, “Get it, babe.”

“I, um…” Walter tilted his head, perplexed. “Darling, that’s… just… Jim.”

And it was. Just Jim, that is.

Granted, the baby had an oddly _guilty_ look on his little cherub-cheeked face and he seemed to be inexplicably _aware_ of the situation – which prompted Walter to lean forward and squint at him. Did he flinch back? And did his eyes grow a little wider? No, that was preposterous. He was an infant, for Morgana’s sake!

Still, he really _was_ behaving pretty peculiar. He should be screeching up a storm, right? Could a goblin have frightened him that much? Was he in shock?

“That’s _not_ Jim!” Barbara’s glare intensified as she took a step away from Walter and toward the crib. “Who are you? And what the hell have you done with my son?”

The baby squeaked.

“I don’t think –“

“I _saw_ him!” She whirled around. “He was green! And he had these huge yellow eyes, and… And _teeth_! And there was this light – like when you switch forms?”

“Are you suggesting,” Walter said slowly, “that our Jim has been replaced by a changeling?”

“Yes!”

Walter stood very still for a moment before saying as delicately as possible, “Please, don’t… Don’t take this the wrong way, but… Well. You _have_ been working a lot of hours lately, and I think – maybe – your mind might be playing tricks on you?”

Barbara’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “You don’t believe me?”

“I believe _you_ believe that’s what you saw...” He grimaced. ”But, darling, I _personally_ approve or deny all surface assignments. There’s not a single changeling stationed in North America that I don’t know about. And I can assure you, that I would never have allowed – Wait. Is that my sock?”

That last part came out as an indignant squawk as Walter’s jaw dropped and Barbara threw her hands up in a ‘told you so’ gesture, then waved at him to investigate further.

“It was in his mouth,” she said matter-of-factly, hip cocking dangerously to the side. “He was slurping it like a spaghetti noodle.”

Walter snorted in outrage and stomped over to the crib.

The baby gulped.

“Change,” he barked, eyes flashing menacingly as he snatched a half-eaten argyle from the boy’s grasp. “Now.”

Nothing happened.

“Oh, I see. You want to do this the hard way, hmm?” He glanced over his shoulder at a prowling Barbara. “Love? Go get the cast iron skillet. And a set of pliers.”

In all honesty, he was a little disappointed in the training program when such a minuscule threat was all it took.

“Oi!” Tiny fists flew up into the air, followed immediately by a crackle of energy. And when the light cleared, a scruffy-looking youngling was there in place of the precious boy Walter had come to adore. “No need for all that, ma! I surrender!”

“Who are you?!”

“Uhh…” The smaller, greener changeling gave a sheepish shrug. “NotJim?”


End file.
